


Untitled (Dean in a motel)

by winchestersinthedrift



Series: Het SPN Oneshots [9]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Quickies, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-01
Updated: 2015-09-01
Packaged: 2018-04-18 12:55:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 914
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4706774
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/winchestersinthedrift/pseuds/winchestersinthedrift





	Untitled (Dean in a motel)

So it’s not that you’re not used to getting looked at, it’s a scuzzy motel and you’ve been propositioned a few times and leered at so much you’ve quit noticing, but this guy is different. He’s on the phone when he opens the door but he waves you in and you go change the towels in the bathroom and when you come back out he’s sitting on the end of one of the beds with his elbows on his knees and his feet planted a little out in front of him and he says ‘don’t worry ‘bout this bed, just gonna sleep in it again’ and you laugh. 

When you’re emptying the garbage next to the tv he looks up and dimples at you and says ‘how’s it goin’?’ and he’s drawling a little and usually it’d make you roll your eyes but this guy makes it sound like the most genuine thing anyone had ever asked anyone else and his eyes on you are making you all warm and breathless and you think you might be blushing. So you say ‘oh you know long day but it’s almost over, how ‘bout you?’ and he smiles all quick and sweet and you really don’t think his eyes have left you the whole time and he raises an eyebrow and says ‘oh pretty good, whole lot better since you walked in.’ You say ‘yeah?’ and he says ‘better believe it’ and looks down for a second, like he’s kind of readying himself to fade the whole thing out to a joke if you’re not into it, and he looks back up and says ‘gonna break my heart princess?’

You meet his eyes and bite your lower lip and say, ‘nah, you gonna break mine?’ 

Then you’re unhooking your bra through your tshirt before you’ve even straddled him and his hands are on you, peeling off your bra and tshirt together and pressing against the small of your back and you’re arching up against him and kissing him open-mouthed and aggressive and he meets you, not exploring your mouth but _taking_ it and jesus he’s a good kisser. When he flips you over on your back you notice that his eyelashes are like a smudge of crayon across his eyelids.

Then his hands are pushing you down into the mattress and you’re naked now except for your panties and he somehow shucks his jeans off without taking his hands off you and _jesus_ he’s got his thumbs down between your legs opening you up, slipping between your lips, and his tongue is working on one of your nipples, scraping like sandpaper worn down almost to silk, and you’re so wet already that you can feel the cotton of your panties wet against his thumbs. 

And then you’re not quite screaming, in fact you’re trying your guts out to be quiet but you’re moaning through your teeth because he’s got his cock up against you and he’s got a condom wrapper between his teeth and while he’s rolling it on he’s looking at you like you’re some goddamn Botticelli goddess and then _fuck fuck_ he pushes inside you and your mind greys out for a second. He grabs your hips again, gets his hands under your ass and tilts you up towards him and you jerk against him and _yell_ because it’s like he just turned on some new nerve of pleasure you’d never known about and he’s literally fucking _beaming_ at you and you’ve never been with a guy who was so visibly into your reactions. 

You get your legs wrapped up over his back and your hands in his hair, on the top where it’s thick enough to grab, and he says ‘oh my _fuckinggod_ sweetheart’ and ‘princess, baby, shit you’re hot’ and he tells you how tight you are and how hard he’s gonna come in you and you drag one hand down over his face and say ‘so - good - for - me - so - _good_ ’ and you swear that he fucking _shudders_. 

You come with his face against you, cheek pressed rough against your temple, but he can feel it and he kisses you again, takes your cries into his mouth and fucks you through it, softening his thrusts a little but keeping the rhythm until he follows you a minute later. Afterwards he falls back beside you on the pillows and you’re so close, still pressed up against each other, and he puts one hand over your stomach and you lay there for a little while and trace the lines of his knuckles with your thumb. Then you get up and you don’t have to say anything because you feel for no particular reason that he gets it, he knows whatever you would say and you know the things he’d like to, and so instead of saying anything he just comes behind you and helps you do up the clasp of your skirt and leaves his hands on your hips for a couple of beats. 

The next morning he’s gone before you do your morning rounds and on one of the pillows there’s some pocket-change, the usual couple bucks for a tip. On the other there’s a scrap of paper ripped from the motel pad by every phone. It’s not ‘thank you’ and it’s not ‘i love you’ and you wouldn’t have wanted those anyway, that’s not what it was about, it’s just ‘xo’ in a messy scrawl. 

You still haven’t thrown it out.


End file.
